 Oh, uh, waiter? Yes, sir? I'll have a cottage cheese and sour cream salad, a plate of scallions, some toasted rye bread, and a bottle of cold, perhaps blue ribbon. Yes, sir. Finest beer served. Anywhere. From Hollywood, perhaps blue ribbon. Anywhere. Proudly presented. Apartment for Peggy, director George Seaton. The heartwarming motion picture story, Apartment for Peggy, starring Gene Crane, and introduced by the director of the film, George Seaton. The phrase, all the world's a stage, might have been tailor-made for motion pictures. At this moment, Berlin, Germany is a stage for the man who wrote and directed our story tonight. He's there creating his newest film, Two Corridors East. But between scenes, we've brought his voice across the Atlantic. Ladies and gentlemen, the writer-director of such excellent films as Miracle on 34th Street, Chicken Every Sunday, and Tonight's Story, Apartment for Peggy, Mr. George Seaton. It's a little difficult to believe that these words spoken in Berlin are going to introduce apartment for Peggy in Hollywood. But since they were, I hope you enjoy Faith Baldwin's delightful story, as much as we enjoyed adapting and filming it. Between his chuckles, you'll find a swiftly passing bit of Americana. The soldiers and the soldiers' wives will return from the problems of war to the almost equally puzzling problems of college life. Now, who it is? Apartment for Peggy, starring Jean Crane in her original role. My name is Henry Barnes, professor of philosophy, retired. Eight years ago, this university patted me on the back with a few honorary degrees and said in effect, thank you, your work is finished. Since I am no longer useful on this earth, I have decided the only logical thing to do is to leave it. I telephone my friend, professor Edward Bell, to obtain his legal advice and making out my will. When? Suicide. But Henry, you can't commit suicide. It's wrong. Not Edward. Hey, listen to me, listen to me. Promise you won't do anything at least until I see you. Don't be silly, Edward. I'm not planning anything impulsive. I still have my affairs to put in order and a few pages to finish on my last book should take me about three weeks. So you see, I have a kind of deadline to meet. I had no idea my friends would be so alarmed that my decision seemed so logical in a matter of fact to me. On my way home, I walked through the snow-covered campus and sat down for a moment on a bench. Mind if I sit down? I didn't wait for you to say yes or no, did I? Call me my fever. I must have walked a thousand miles today. Besides shopping, I've been looking for an apartment. Jason and I are simply going up living in that tiny trailer with another couple. An apartment, Jason? Jason's my husband. But you look so young. I'm going to have a baby, too. Do you know something you remind me of Pop? He was my grandfather. That's always the case. I either look like someone's baby or someone's grandfather. Oh, Pop was swell. You know, you got a smile like his, too. I wish there were more to smile about. Oh, no. Not you, too. That's what half the people around here are seeing. The world's gone to the dogs. Nobody's got a chance. Everybody might as well commit suicide. Well, in some instances, I think suicide is completely justified. Oh, now wait a minute, Pop. How can suicide ever be a solution? Well, let's take a hypothetical case. Mr. Hypothetical is an old man, alone in the world. He has no future. Why not suicide? Because it wouldn't change anything. The gentleman would be dead. I consider that a drastic change. But what makes Mr. Hypothetical think he's living now? Well, he's just sitting around feeling sorry for himself and thinking of reasons why he should kill himself. He's not alive. He's dead already, just as dead as a dodo. Jeepers, I've got to get home and fix Jason's lunch. Dead already? Jason, your husband, he's a student. Oh, you can say that again. G.I. Bill, he's going to be a chemistry teacher. Gully, if you knew of an apartment or a basement or even a camera, I'd love you till your dying day. You see, with the baby coming, we've just got to get out of that trailer. Couldn't be very expensive, because our G.I. Latin doesn't go very far. The only thing I can suggest is that you consult the University Housing Administrator. Oh, that old creep. Creep? The Housing Administrator, Professor Edward Bell, is the most conscientious man and happens to be a friend of mine. You mean you've got suction over there? Suction? Suction. Poor drag. If you are suggesting I use my influence, the answer is no. However, I will call Professor Bell and acquaint him with your predicament. Oh, gee, thanks, Pop. Oh, my name's Peggy Tater. I am Dr. Henry V. A doctor? Then maybe you can tell me. Some mornings, I feel like I swallowed a bucket of worms. And yet other times, I... I am a doctor of philosophy. Oh, sorry, Pop. Don't forget to call your friend. Professor Bell speaking. Oh, yes, Henry. Yes, she's in my office now. Yes. I'd like to very much to help her, but the moment is impossible. Of course, if anything, all right. Goodbye, Henry. You see, I told you he was a friend of mine. I didn't doubt you, Mrs. Taylor. Maybe you're not aware of it, Professor Bell, but a recent survey showed that 27% of the expected mothers on this campus have no real place to live. 27%? I had no idea. What did you do during the war when you had all those Navy students shipped in? Where did you put them? Oh, no, wait. Wait. Come to think of it, a couple of those Navy men used Professor Bond's attic for a time. Why the old fraud? You mean he's got an empty attic and he didn't tell me? What's the address? Disruptions. Disruptions. Now, who in the world... I've got work to do. Pop! My dear, Miss... Mrs. Just Peggy. Why didn't you tell me you had a room for Jason and me? What deep hop this is wonderful! I don't know what you're talking about. I have no extra room here. Your attic? Well, no one could possibly live up there. You had a couple of Navy men there during the war. That was an emergency. Well, what do you realize that 53% of the expected mothers on this campus are homeless? 53%. Well, I had no idea. Well, I'm not sure of the figures, but the statistics are right. All right. Come along, then, up these stairs. I'll show you the attic and you can see for yourself how impossible it would be to live in. Oh, I'll bet you never lived in a trailer with two other married people. During the war, Jason served on a submarine, or he said even submarines had better living space than our trailer. So, you see, your attic... Is nothing but the inside of a dirty roof. There. Look for yourself. You can fix it up just like in House Beautiful. It is not foreign. You mean you won't take any money? We can have it for free. Oh, you're an angel. He says it's okay. Hello, Dr. Conway. This is Henry Barnes. I'm wondering if you could send me over a few more of those sleeping tablets. Well, Henry, in view of your recent decision do you really think I should? Don't be ridiculous, Doctor. Tonight, I definitely need them to sleep. Very well, Henry. I'll have the drugstore sent over two more. That should be enough. Oh, by the way, Professor Bell tells me you've taken in a GI student. Very nice of you. I have not only taken in a GI student. I have taken in a GI wife who brought a GI dog, which very probably has GI fleas. Don't forget to send my pills. House production of apartment for Peggy, starring Jean Crane with her Butterfield as Professor Barnes, and introduced by the director of the film, George Seaton. Our in Brooklyn. The subway is like a steam oven. You, fate from the heat and the shoving of the crowd, push through the turnstile and up out of the street. What a scorcher. And not a breath of breeze to cool you off. Say, wait a minute. What's that little blue sign in the cafe window? Oh, brother, perhaps blue ribbon. Finest beer served. Anywhere. Yes, during these hot September days, you're just one of millions of men all over America to whom that perhaps blue ribbon sign means welcome relief. For perhaps blue ribbon does something more than quench your thirst. It gives you taste. Blue ribbon tastes. The kind of taste you can't get anywhere else in the world, except in that perhaps blue ribbon bottle. And, fortunately, you can get that perhaps blue ribbon bottle all over the world. Yes, you hear it everywhere. In Brooklyn and Baltimore and Boston and Buffalo, perhaps blue ribbon. Finest beer served. Anywhere. Your taste will tell you why. Screen director's playhouse production of Apartment for Peggy, starring Jean Crane. The GI couple who had moved into my attic had completely disrupted my plans. I had hoped to complete my book within three weeks, but now that thumping and hammering overhead was making everything impossible. Oh, dear. After three days of this bedlam, I was invited up to witness the transformation. Like the room pop? Amazing. I can't believe it. Perfectly charming. Of course, we have to go downstairs to do the dishes. Those drapes are paper from the dime store. Beautiful. Sit down, professor. Hope you don't mind the period furniture. Early colonial apple box. You young people are a paradox. You're ingenious, you're resourceful, but none of you seems to have any purpose. Where are you all going? What's your goal? For instance, why have you come to the university? Well, I came because I wanted to be a teacher. You don't have to say it as if you were learning to be a dope peddler. I'm curious, Jason. When did you first decide to teach? Well, I was floating around Pacific one day, and I kept asking myself how I could wind up 6,000 miles from home hanging onto a hunk of lifeboat. Suddenly the answers seemed pretty clear. It went from ignorance to suspicion to fear to hate to destruction. But it all started with ignorance. So, right there, he promised to flock of seagulls that if he ever got out of that spot, he'd... Well, he'd do what he could. Personally, I think that's a rather lofty ambition. Oh, you'll find my Jason is quite a lofty kind of guy, Pop. Oh, don't get her started, professor. He'll be sorry. Oh, it's some other time, Pop. Right now we'll have to say good night. Jason's got to start studying again. He's got an exam tomorrow. Slave driver. Oh, yes, of course. But some other time I would like to discuss your theories with you. If there is amazing as the transformation you've affected here, it would be interesting to see what you'd do with the world. Good night. Good night, Pop. Good night, Pop. Oh, Jason isn't he, sweet? Yeah. So are you, honey? Come here. Uh, uh, study. Oh, okay, my child. Right, I'll study. But you'd better hit the sack. By the way, don't you have to take your phallic acid pills? Oh, I ran out yesterday. Why didn't you get some more? Oh, I forgot. You see, when I went into town... How much do they cost? Well, around $5, but honestly... You didn't have the money. Is that it? Oh, now don't worry. Your allotment check will be here tomorrow. Allotment check. 90 bucks a month. Ah, it's no good, Peggy. It won't work. What won't? What are you talking about? It's time for me to stop this nonsense and get a job. But you've got a job, an important job where you're going to be a teacher. I had a letter from Bill Dudley last week. He's selling used cars in Chicago, averaging $150 a week. No, Jason, that's not for you. I don't need the pills I tell you. No, last week it was something else we couldn't afford. How do you think I feel? You're expecting a baby and having to live in an attic and run up and down all those stairs. Oh, sweet silly. Thousands of women have had babies before. There's nothing to worry about. Believe me. Yes, what is it? It's me, Pop. I brought you your breakfast. Thought you'd like to have it in bed for a change. If you're not careful, Peggy, you're going to spoil me. Don't you want me to? Oh, I didn't say that. But in these weeks, you and Jason have been here. I frankly haven't been able to get much work done on my book. You know, Pop, I've been thinking, education is supposed to bring people closer together, but gee, sometimes it drives them apart if only one person gets it. Just how you got from breakfast to education, I didn't quite follow. Oh, sorry, Pop. You see, it's like this. Statistics show that 86% of us wives don't really know a thing about the junk our husbands are studying. Well, the husband talks about Spinoza and the wife doesn't even know who he is. Spinoza, Peggy. You see, that's what I mean. For all I know, he runs a grocery store. So I've been thinking, why couldn't some of the professors talk to us once in a while? So we'll be able to understand what our husbands are talking about, like knowing who Spinoza is. Sounds like an excellent idea, Peggy. But to organize such a program, you'd have to arrange for a lecture hall, line up the professors. Yes, we'd need a headman that had a lot of suction with the university. Yes, he'd need plenty of suction. They have to be respected by all the faculty. He'd have to be a pretty big guy, that's why I suggested you. Me? Well, excuse me. See here, young lady, I positively refuse to have anything whatsoever to do. Exactly one week later, I conducted my first class for the student wives on the campus. They were a revelation. In an hour session, they covered over 2,000 years of philosophy. For the first time in my academic career, I had to remind a class that the period had ended 20 minutes ago. Oh, Pop, you were tremendous. The girls were crazy about you, and I promised them they could borrow any of the books they need out of your library. Well, now, why didn't I think of that, Peggy? Gee, and don't worry about the books. I'll take good care of them, and... Oh, gee. Oh, Peggy, are you all right? Pop, no. No, don't get frightened, but... I think you better call a doctor. Jason. Hello, Jason. I ran all the way to the hospital. Is she all right? Can I see her? Peggy's fine, Jason. But the baby's dead. Well, Peggy, they finally let me in to see you. Oh, gee, Pop, that's well... I don't know what the matter with the characters around you. I'm perfectly all right, but the doctor just won't listen to me. Peggy, you're amazing to take it like this. Oh, I... I'm not really the courageous little woman you think I am. I tried being brave that first day, but it just didn't work. I bawled for two hours. But now I can think and talk about it without getting all ruchy inside. I don't know if it'll be of any consolation or not, but I want you to know that although you've lost a child, a life wasn't lost. It was merely exchanged. But I don't... That day we met in the park and we talked about Mr. Hypothetical wanting to commit suicide. Well, I was Mr. Hypothetical. I feel like one of those twice-born people. Through you and Jason, I've learned how to be useful again. Jason's leaving tonight, Pop. He's going to Chicago to take a job selling used cars. That's impossible. Jason's going to be a teacher. Not anymore. He still feels this is his fault. Is that it? Oh, he's just using the attic and the baby as an excuse, Pop. He's running away from himself. Or maybe after a couple of weeks he'll come back. If not, I'll go to him. Used cars, salesman of all things. Drive by, sell your car to careless Carson, right? To this careless Carson? Yes, sir. You sure came to the right place, old timer. Step right in and let me show you 49. It just came in this morning. I'm looking for Mr. Jason Taylor. Hey, you're over by that black sedan. Hello, Jason. Professor, hello. How's Peggy? She's worried. Why haven't you sent for her? Well, I will eventually, Professor, but right now every time I think of what happened I feel as guilty as... Be honest, Jason. It's not the loss of the baby that makes you feel this way. You two had some pretty wonderful ideas on how to live and what to live for. And they imposed a responsibility on you. But now you've deserted that responsibility. Isn't that why you feel guilty? Maybe I don't know. I talked to the dean this morning, Jason. He said if you came back now you could take makeup examinations and a job as an instructor would be almost a certainty. I'm making more here in two months than I could in a year of teaching. At least I can give my wife a decent place to live in. Is that wrong? No. But I thought you once promised a flock of seagulls you were going to teach and try to help make people more understanding. Sounds pretty, but what does it get you? Taylor, Taylor, you're up. Oh, you'll have to excuse me, professor. I've got a customer. I'll think about what you said and give Peggy my best. Coming right up. Goodbye, Jason. Look, what did he have to say? Is he coming back to school? He looked fine, Peggy, but he's doing so well in Chicago that there may be a possibility that he can finish his studying at the University of Chicago. You're not a very good liar, Pop. I'm sorry, Peggy. Oh, don't worry, Pop. It's not as if I hadn't expected it. I wrote to my sister. I'm going to go stay with her for a while. Oh, no, Peggy, you can't do that. This is your home as well as mine now. You must stay. Well, it's no use, Pop. There are too many memories around here. I'd go bugs. I'm practically all packed, and I thought I'd catch that seven o'clock train. Very well, Peggy, if you think that's best. Suddenly my world began to crumble. I was an old man again, lonely and defeated. Somehow Peggy and Jason's dream of an enlightened world had become my own, but I had failed to help their dream come true. I was no longer useful. I went to my room and took the bottle of sleeping tablets from my desk. I had been saving them up two by two, and now the time had come. Peggy, let me rest. No, no, you've got to keep walking. Dr. Conway should be here in a minute. But I just want to... And you've got to drink this coffee. But I've had 12 cups already. I said drink it. I keep walking, keep walking. Peggy, Peggy, what's wrong? Oh, Jason, Jason, you did come back. Help me. Pop's taking a whole bottle of sleeping pills. What did you do that for? Because you two left me. That's why. Well, I've seen the dean and I'm back to stay now. Oh, Jason, I love you, darling, but we haven't got time for that sort of thing now. You've got to keep walking. You ought to be ashamed of yourself doing such a crazy thing. Now, come on, walking isn't enough. You've got to run. Well, I can't. Come on, look your legs up. Way up, please. Quiet and run. Hold it. There were 16. But that's enough to kill him. I gave them to him two at a time. But didn't it occur to you that he might save them off? Yes. And you kept right on giving them to him? No. Sleeping pills? Then what kind of pills were they? Well, they're harmless. Stop walking now, Piggy. Oh, Pop, darling, you shouldn't have scared us that way. Wait, don't you know that 72% of the people who take sleeping pills wind up with insomnia? And besides, you've got to stick around here to tell your new grandson all about Spinoza. Spinoza, Piggy. Piggy. You have just heard the last act of apartment for Piggy. In a moment, our star, Gene Brain, and screen director George Seaton will return to the microphone. The other night on the radio, I heard one of the Hollywood commentators say that it's too bad America gets such a wrong impression of the private lives of movie stars. I couldn't help but agree for most of the picture people are normal, home-loving folks just like you and me. And their idea of a good time is a weekend spent out in their backyard. Especially these hot summer days with good friends, good conversation and good, perhaps, blue ribbon beer. As I've said so many times before, everything in perfect taste. Blue ribbon taste. And it's that blue ribbon taste that makes this internationally famous beer so popular here in Hollywood and all over America. Yes, you hear it everywhere. On Cape Cod's picturesque seaside resorts in San Francisco's popular eating places in Utah's famous national parks. Perhaps blue ribbon. Finest beer served. Anywhere. Your taste will tell you why. Next week on Screen Directors Playhouse, perhaps blue ribbon presents the human comedy. And our star will be Mickey Rooney. Now here again is tonight's star, Miss Jean Crane. Thanks so much for your applause, but as an actress I know only too well how much of it rightfully belongs to George Seaton who directed the department for Peggy. I only wish George were in the studio with us tonight. But since he isn't, we can do the next best thing and bring you his voice from Berlin. Ladies and gentlemen, my director, George Seaton. Thank you very much, Jean. I'm sure that you and the rest of the cast solve Peggy's problems with the flourish. And don't think a little thing like the Atlantic Ocean is going to keep me from hearing the show. I'll be catching it soon here in Berlin when the Armed Forces Radio Service broadcasts the Screen Directors Playhouse of the troops. Thanks again and good night. And good night to you, George Seaton, and Jean Crane. Tomorrow is the beginning of the long and fun-filled Labor Day weekend. Three whole days of relaxation. Go to your neighborhood store and ask for the new Papst Blue Ribbon handy-six carton with a clever little handle that makes it so easy to carry. It contains six regular-sized cans of Papst Blue Ribbon beer. It's served. Anywhere. Just the thing for picnics and backyard barbecues. Remember the name. Papst Blue Ribbon's new handy-six carton. Apartment for Peggy was presented through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox. Producers of Iowa's a male war bride starring Carrie Grant and Anne Sheridan. George Seaton also appeared by arrangement with 20th Century Fox, which soon will release. Father was a fullback starring Fred McMurray and Maureen O'Hara. Jean Crane is currently being seen under the stable, starring Loretta Young and Celeste Holm. Included in tonight's cast were Herb Butterfield as Professor Henry Barnes, William Tracy, Joe Granby, Ken Christie, Herb Bygren and Dan Ritz. Apartment for Peggy was adapted for radio by Warren Lewis, and original music was composed and conducted by Henry Russell. Screen Directors Playhouse was produced by Howard Wiley with Dramatic Direction by Bill Karn. Portions of tonight's broadcast were transcribed. Listen again next week when Papst Blue Ribbon presents the human comedy director, Clarence Brown, star Mickey Rooney. Screen Directors Playhouse is brought to you by the Papst Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, New York, New Jersey and Peoria, Illinois, and sent your way with the best wishes of the Papst Blue Ribbon Dealers from coast to coast. James Wallington speaking.